  A STRATEGIC LOVE-LETTER.The following love-letter, dated in 1661, was sent by Philip, second Earl of Chesterfield, to Lady Russell:— Madam:—The dullness of this last cold season doth afford nothing that is new to divert you; only here is a report that I fain would know the truth of, which is, that I am extremely in love with you. Pray let me know if it be true or no, since I am certain that nothing but yourself can rightly inform me; for if you intend to use me favorably, and do think I am in love with you, I most certainly am so; but if you intend to receive me coldly, and do not believe that I am in love, I also am sure that I am not; therefore let me entreat you to put me out of a doubt which makes the greatest concern of, Dear Madam, your most obedient faithful servant, Chesterfield. (It is the part of a skillful general to secure a good retreat.) WRITTEN IN SYMPATHETIC INK.Dear girl, if thou hadst been less fair, Or I had been more bold, The burning words I now would write, Ere this, my tongue had told. True to its bashful instinct still, My love erects this screen, And writes the words it dare not speak In ink that can’t be seen. CRYPTOGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE.A lady wrote to a gentleman thus:— “I shall be much obliged to you, as reading alone engages my attention at present, if you will lend me any one of the Eight volumes of the Spectator. I hope you will excuse this freedom, but for a winter’s evening I don’t know a better entertainment. If I fail to return it soon, never trust me for the time to come.” The words successively italicized convey the secret invitation. MACAULAY’S VALENTINE.The following valentine from Lord Macaulay to the Hon. Mary C. Stanhope, daughter of Lord and Lady Mahon, 1851, is worthy of being preserved for the sake as much of its author as of its own merits:— Hail, day of music, day of love! On earth below, and air above. In air the turtle fondly moans, The linnet pipes in joyous tones: On earth the postman toils along, Bent double by huge bales of song. Where, rich with many a gorgeous dye, Blazes all Cupid’s heraldry— Myrtles and roses, doves and sparrows, Love-knots and altars, lamps and arrows. What nymph without wild hopes and fears The double-rap this morning hears? Unnumbered lasses, young and fair, From Bethnel Green to Belgrave Square, With cheeks high flushed, and hearts loud beating, Await the tender annual greeting. The loveliest lass of all is mine— Good morrow to my Valentine! Good morrow, gentle child: and then, Again good morrow, and again, Good morrow following still good morrow, Without one cloud of strife or sorrow. And when the god to whom we pay In jest our homages to-day Shall come to claim no more in jest, His rightful empire o’er thy breast, Benignant may his aspect be, His yoke the truest liberty: And if a tear his power confess, Be it a tear of happiness. It shall be so. The Muse displays The future to her votary’s gaze: Prophetic range my bosom swells— I taste the cake—I hear the bells! From Conduit street the close array Of chariots barricades the way Majestic thy great kinsman stand, And half unbend his brow of pride, As welcoming so fair a bride; Gay favors, thick as flakes of snow, Brighten St. George’s portico: Within I see the chancel’s pale, The orange flowers, the Brussels veil, The page on which those fingers white, Still trembling from the awful rite, For the last time shall faintly trace The name of Stanhope’s noble race. I see kind faces round thee pressing, I hear kind voices whisper blessing: And with those voices mingles mine— All good attend my Valentine! St. Valentine’s Day, 1851. T. B. Macaulay. Very tender are Burns’ verses to his ladie loves. For instance:— Oh! were I in the wildest waste, Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise If thou wert there, if thou wert there; Or, were I monarch of the globe, Wi’ thee to reign, wi’ thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen. TEUTONIC ALLITERATION.O du Dido, die du da den, der den, den du liebst liebt, lieb ’o liebste des Freundes, den Freund des Freundes, des Freundes wegen. [O you Dido, you who, him, who him you love, loves, love O dearest of the friend, the friend’s friend, for the friend’s sake.] A LOVER TO HIS SWEETHEART.
The lines may be read either from left to right, or from above downwards. They may also be read in various directions. CARDIAC EFFUSION.Somebody named John Birchall wrote the following lines in 1684 with his “heart’s blood”:— These loving lines which I to you have sent, In secrecy in my heart’s blood are pent, Ye pen I slipt as I ye pen did make, And freely bleeds, and will do for your sake. MACARONIC VALENTINE.Geist und sinn mich beÜgen Über Vous zu dire das ich Sie liebe! Das herz que vous so lightly spurn To you und sie allein will turn Unbarmherzig—pourquoi scorn Mon coeur with love and anguish torn? Croyez vous das my despair Votre bonheur can swell or faire? SchÖnheit kann nicht cruel sein Mepris ist keine macht divine, Then, oh then, it can’t be thine. Glaube das mine love is true, Changeless, deep wie Himmel’s blue— Que l’amour that now I swear Zu Dir Ewigkeit I’ll bear. Glaube das the gentle rays Born and nourished in thy gaze Sur mon coeur will ever dwell Comme À l’instant when they fell— Mechante! that you know full well. George Digby, Earl of Bristol, one of the most graceful writers of the Seventeenth Century, is credited with this:— Fair Archabella, to thy eyes, That flame just blushes in the skies, Each noble heart doth sacrifice. Yet be not cruel, since you may, Whene’er you please, to save or slay, Or with a frown benight the day. I do not wish that you should rest In any unknown highway breast, The lodging of each common guest, But I present a bleeding heart, Wounded by love, not pricked by art, That never knew a former smart. Be pleased to smile, and then I live; But if a frown, a death you give, For which it were a sin to grieve. Yet if it be decreed I fall, Grant but one boon, one boon is all:— That you would me your martyr call. A COLORED MAN’S LOVE-LETTER.A colored man living in Detroit had long admired a colored widow in a neighboring street, but being afraid to reveal his passion, went to a white man and asked him to write the lady a letter asking her hand in marriage. The friend wrote, telling the woman in a few brief lines that the size of her feet was the talk of the neighborhood, and asking her if she couldn’t pare them down a little. The name of the colored man was signed, and he was to call on her for an answer. Subsequently the writer of the letter met the negro limping along the street, and asked him what the widow said. The man showed him a bloodshot eye, a scratched nose, a lame leg, and a spot on the scalp where a handful of wool had been violently jerked out; and he answered in solemn tones: “She didn’t say nuffin, an’ I didn’t stay dar mor’n a minute!” UNPUBLISHED VERSES OF THOMAS MOORE.Bright leaf, when storms thy bloom shall wither, Oh, fly for calm and shelter hither; And I will prize thy tints as truly As when in Spring they blossom newly. Bright leaf, when storms thy blooms shall wither, Oh, fly for calm and shelter hither. Sweet maid, while hope and rapture cheer thee, ’Tis not for me to linger near thee; But when joys fade and hope deceives thee, When all that soothes and flatters leaves thee— Oh, then, how sweet in one forsaken, Fresh hopes and joys again to waken! EGYPTIAN SERENADE.Sing again the song you sung When we were together young— When there were but you and I Underneath the summer sky. Sing the song, and sing it o’er, Though I know that nevermore Will it seem the song you sung When we were together young. PETITIONS.THE MAIDS AND WIDOWS.The following petition, signed by sixteen maids of Charleston, South Carolina, was presented to the Governor of that province in March, 1733, “the day of the feast”:— To His Excellency Governor Johnson. The humble petition of all the Maids whose names are underwritten:—Whereas, We the humble petitioners are at present in a very melancholy disposition of mind, considering how all the bachelors are blindly captivated by widows, and our more youthful charms thereby neglected: the consequence of this our request is, that your Excellency will for the future order that no Widow shall presume to marry any young man till the maids are provided for; or else to pay each of them a fine for satisfaction, for invading our liberties; and likewise a fine to be laid on all such bachelors as shall be married to widows. The great disadvantage it is to us maids, is, that the widows, by their forward carriages, do snap up the young men; and have the vanity to think their merits beyond ours, which is a great imposition upon us who ought to have the preference. This is humbly recommended to your Excellency’s consideration, and hope you will prevent any farther insults. And we poor Maids as in duty bound will ever pray. P. S.—I, being the oldest maid, and therefore most concerned, do think it proper to be the messenger to your Excellency in behalf of my fellow subscribers. A MALADROIT PETITION.An autograph of Madame de Maintenon has recently been discovered at Chateau-Guinon, the history of which is curious. A worthy priest of Cuiseaux, a small Commune of La Brasse, desiring to repair his church, which was becoming dilapidated, had the happy idea of addressing himself to Madame de Maintenon, whose charitable bounty was upon every tongue. Not “Madame:—You enjoy the reputation, which I doubt not is well founded, of according your favors to all who solicit them. I therefore venture to appeal to your bounty in behalf of the church of Cuiseaux,” etc. The exalted lady had no sooner cast her eyes upon the poor priest’s unlucky exordium, than she flew into a rage, and had him thrown into prison, whence it was with great difficulty that his friends procured a release. The story seems apocryphal, but the memorial bears the following indorsement in the handwriting of Madame de Maintenon:—The lieutenant of police is ordered to issue a lettre-de-cachet against the signer of this petition. |
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